


Past and Gone

by Coby_Thinks



Series: Replacement [1]
Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Angst, I'm just in a weird mood, M/M, Mentions of Suicide, Suicide, Tristan is my child, also Roman's kinda, angst angst angst, angst angst fresh from the google doc, get your angst while its still hot, gotta get this angst, have fun with this one fuckers, he trying his best, not gunna lie, oofda, so be nice to the boy, sorry i called you fuckers, y'all will probs hate me, yeet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-19
Updated: 2019-11-19
Packaged: 2021-02-13 12:01:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21493945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Coby_Thinks/pseuds/Coby_Thinks
Summary: Roman makes an irreversible mistake...And leaves everyone else to clean up his mess.Implied Royality/MorinceWARNINGS: suicide, character death, angst, Neutral Remus, Neutral Deceit,
Relationships: Royality - Relationship, implied morince, implied royality, morince
Series: Replacement [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1552264
Comments: 11
Kudos: 27





	Past and Gone

Tristan’s eyes fluttered open and he sat up, dazed. What…? He blinked.  _ Tristan. _ So he had a name. He had eyes. He had a body. Tristan looked down at his hands, opening and closing them. He smiled. Then he looked around the room. 

A desk with a large stack of notebooks sat in one corner. Two magic pencils were there, writing down every idea and thought Thomas was having. 

In another corner, there was a small music studio setup. A ukulele, a guitar that Tristan didn’t know how to play, and a microphone. 

The third corner of the room had art supplies. He knew Thomas wasn’t the best at drawing, or painting, or the like, but he was willing to give it a shot.

The fourth corner had a door.

Tristan got off the bed and walked to the door, then hesitated. He turned to one wall that was adorned with a large mirror, looking at himself. He looked like Thomas, of course. Younger, but he was okay with that. He was dressed in a simple, sand-colored tunic, comfortable dark trousers and boots, with a dark red sash wrapped around his waist and tied in a complicated knot that he wasn’t sure he’d be able to replicate. It reminded him of something medieval, like a squire.

Tristan looked around, chewing on his lip. He knew he must be one of Thomas’s sides, but what was he? His only guess would be creativity, but he knew that there was already a creative side. Unless… Tristan’s eyes widened. A flash of memories came into his head, and he witnessed his predecessor rushing into a cave, sword in front. He never came out.

Roman was dead, and Tristan was creativity.

Tristan looked back into the mirror, he looked terrified, even trying not to. He was pale now, and couldn't keep his hands from shaking. He stuffed them into his pockets and took a deep breath, then reached up and brushed his hair away from his eyes, combing it back as Roman had in the memory.

What would the other light sides think of this? Did they even know Roman was gone? They had to, right? 

Only one way to find out. 

Tristan walked to the door and opened it, stepping out into the hallway. He heard voices from downstairs, in the kitchen, and followed them. He saw the other sides and smiled at their familiar auras, only familiar of course because Roman’s memories provided that. He stood in the doorway silently, chewing on his lip. One by one, they noticed him and the conversation fell silent.

“Well, hi there!” Morality - Patton - jumped up, holding out a hand. “I’m Patton, you can call me Dad!”

“H-Hi…” Tristan stuttered, using his voice for the first time. 

“I’m Logan or Logic,” said Logan.

“Virgil, or anxiety.” Said Virgil.

“I-I know your names…” Tristan said softly, running a hand through his hair again.

“Oh?” Patton seemed surprised.

“Did you meet Roman, perhaps? I haven’t seen him around but there’s a chance that he returned from the quest.” 

They didn’t know. Tristan stepped back, hands shaking. His eyes burned with tears and he looked away.

“I-I didn’t meet Roman…” he said softly, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

“Kiddo, you okay?”

“Um…” Tristan looked at them all with blurry vision. “I’m so sorry, but… I-I-I…” he took a deep breath. “I’m creativity.” Their faces only reflected shock. “I think… Roman is dead.”

* * *

Tristan sat on the couch cross-legged, chewing on his lip. Patton had draped a blanket around his shoulders, and they were all sitting around in silence. He wanted to explain, he so desperately wanted to apologize and tell them what happened to the prince, but he didn’t want to hurt them more. Finally, someone spoke.

“Do you know how this happened?” It was Logan. Tristan swallowed nervously, running a hand through his hair.

“Uh… I think so…” he murmured. “I… I have this memory, where I’m not me. Where I’m Roman.” No one spoke. “And, I- well, Roman was going into a cave… to fight something, and…”

“And he lost.” Virgil finished softly. Tristan nodded.

“I’m so sorry!” he burst out, wiping tears away. They all stared at him. “I thought you must know, and then you didn’t, and now you’re sad, and it’s my fault!”

“Aw, kiddo, it’s okay.” Patton hugged him gently. “These things… well, apparently they happen. It wasn’t your fault, you just know about it. That’s all.”

“But-”

“No buts,” Patton said gently. “And you can take all the time you need okay? This will be a hard transition for all of us.”

“Okay…” Tristan took a deep breath. “Thanks, Dad.”

The first time Thomas summoned him for a video, Tristan got horribly light-headed. He stumbled, nearly crashing into the camera. Thomas stared.

“R-Roman?”

“Oh shoot, we forgot!” Patton rose up quickly, shooting Tristan an apologetic glance. “Thomas, something happened.” Logan and Virgil appeared as well, looking as worried as Tristan felt. Tristan bit on his lip, it was a bad habit he had no intention of getting rid of.

“Okay, where’s Roman?” Thomas glanced around at them all.

“Thomas…” Virgil sighed. “Roman died.”

“WHAT!” Thomas screamed, backing away.

“Nice going, Virgil.” Logan sighed. “Thomas, calm down. I know this is-”

“If Roman’s dead how am I still creative? When Virgil ducked out I lost anxiety, how does this work at all?” Thomas asked, staring around and finally looking at Tristan. Tristan stared back, eyes wide. “Oh, wait…”

“I-I’m creativity,” Tristan whispered. “Or, the side that manifests your creativity. The new one.”

“Oh.” Thomas took a deep breath, seeming to calm down. But he was still very confused. “Um… I didn’t know you guys could die.”

“Neither did we,” Patton said. “Not until this little guy showed up.”

“Roman went on another stupid quest,” Virgil muttered. “And this time he… didn’t succeed.” 

“And then I woke up.” Tristan finished softly. “I’m really sorry Thomas, I know that’s weird, and-”

“Uh… it’s okay.” Thomas took a deep breath. “It’s going to take me a while to get used to, but it’s okay. Um… I think I’ll shoot the video another time…”

“Probably a good idea.” Tristan agreed softly. “Sorry again.”

“It's… not your fault…” Thomas murmured, but he avoided Tristan’s eyes.

“Kiddo, why don’t you go back and we’ll talk to Thomas a bit more?” Patton said gently. 

Tristan nodded and sunk down to the commons in the mindscape. As soon as he did, he rushed to his room and slammed the door behind him, tears burning his eyes. What did he do? He shouldn't have gone, he should have just let them explain it later. Of course, Thomas would be upset, everyone was upset. Tristan slid down the wall, burying his face in his arms. He wanted to go somewhere where it didn’t matter that he was just a replacement, somewhere he could just be free.

Then he felt the breeze.

Tristan’s head shot up and he stared open-mouthed. What…

This must be the imagination. Tristan stood up, looking around him in awe. This was what Roman created, it was amazing! But, he wasn’t Roman. How was he here? Tristan turned a full circle before spotting the castle, and couldn't help but run toward it. He was curious. 

Stepping into the castle was like stepping into a hot shower, making all his worries flee and just his emotions remain. It felt incredible.

The castle was deserted, and everything was new to him, but Tristan felt like he’d been there before. He knew exactly where everything was, but at the same time, he’d never seen any of it. It was like deja vu. He hurried up a staircase, grinning at the loud echoes. Yeah, it was childish. But he was a lot younger than the other sides. They weren’t sure why.

Eventually, Tristan found his way up to a large bedchamber. It was Romans, he knew it was. He went in anyway, slower than before, and wary. The room was well lit and clean, and he smiled. Tristan closed his eyes and breathed deeply, feeling at home for the first time since he woke up. Then he saw the package.

It wasn’t really a package, it was more like a treasure chest. It was sitting in the middle of Roman’s big four-poster bed, with a paper taped to the front.

_ Tristan _

Tristan’s eyes widened, but he walked over and pulled off the note. It didn’t say anything else, just his name. He ran his hands over the chest, feeling the intricate carvings that must have taken so much concentration to create. Then he lifted the lid.

Tristan didn’t know what he’d been expecting. Maybe gold, silver, music, anything. Well, anything but a bunch of Christmas ornaments.

Okay, they weren’t exactly Christmas ornaments. They were ten round glass orbs, each gently placed in an indentation on some red velvet. Each one had a large number drawn on it. Tristan reached down and picked up the sphere with the large number one. When he did, dust suddenly billowed up and he stumbled back, coughing. Then his eyes widened as the sphere tumbled from his grip and shattered on to the floor.

No, ohhhh no. He broke it. That was probably really bad-

And then it wasn’t. Tristan’s eyes widened in shock when a figure sprang from the remains of the sphere. It was… Roman.

“Roman?” Tristan gasped, eyes wide.

“Hey, Tris,” Roman said, gently hugging him. “I don’t have much time, okay? These orbs have pieces of my essence in them, and I made them to help you transition.”

“Oh…” Tristan frowned. “I was hoping… you were alive again.”

“Nope, I… screwed up.” Roman sighed. “But that’s okay. Listen, Tristan, I know this is hard. I bet the others are going nuts.”

“Yeah.”

“When I died, I created you and these with my last ounce of strength. Roman said, gesturing to the orbs and to Tristan. “So basically, I’m your god.”

“What?”

“Nevermind. The point is, I’m gone. You're here. You’re Thomas’s creativity now.”

“But I’m nothing like you!” Tristan complained. Roman sighed, and his form began to flicker.

“Listen, Tristan, I don’t have time left,” he said. “You just need to remember that you aren’t me, and that’s okay. You have the potential to be better than me, okay? Everything in the mindscape happens for a reason, for Thomas. Do you understand?”

“But-”

“I’m going,” Roman said softly. “Only break one when you really need to, there’s nine left.”

“Roman please!” Tristan felt tears burn his eyes, “Don’t-” and then he was gone. Tristan fell to his knees, tears rolling down his face. It wasn’t fair, he didn’t ask to become a side. He just wanted to help Thomas. Tristan flung himself onto the large bed and started to sob, and he sobbed until he fell asleep.

* * *

“Kiddo?” 

Tristan woke up to gentle knocking. He sat up, eyes wide, to find he was back in his room. He wasn’t in the imagination anymore. But the chest was against one wall, near the art supplies. Tristan hurried over and opened it. Inside were nine glass spheres.

“You awake? Breakfast is ready!”

“O-oh! Yeah, I’m coming.” Tristan stumbled to his feet, running hands through his hair. It was real, and he could see Roman nine more times. But… he didn’t think he could do this. Tristan took a deep breath and then let it out, then walked over and opened the door. “Hey, Dad.”

“Hey!” Patton hugged him. “I’m sorry about yesterday, Kiddo. Thomas will be okay now.”

“That’s good,” Tristan said. They started down to the kitchen and he chewed on his lip, thinking. Should he tell Patton? No, that didn’t seem fair. Patton had been devastated when he found out Roman died… telling him might make it hurt more. The last thing Tristan wanted to do was hurt anyone.

“So, uh, creativity,” Patton rubbed his neck. Tristan glanced at him. “Usually on Sundays, we all sit around and watch Disney. Uh, would you like to-”

“Disney?!” Tristan lit up. “I love Disney! Of course, I’ll watch it with you guys!” Patton beamed.

“Awesome!” he cheered. Then he skipped over to a plate of pancakes. “Maple or chocolate syrup?”

“Uh… maple…” Tristan murmured, taking a seat. Roman’s seat. He bit his lip.

“Hey,” Virgil muttered from the seat beside him. Tristan nodded, picking at the tablecloth. He glanced toward Patton, thinking. He’d seen how Patton saddened when he called Tristan Creativity, he knew it must hurt since they called Roman that too. He knew their names from Roman’s memories… but they didn’t know his. Or were they just being nice and waiting until he said something? He hummed, then glanced at Virgil.

“Hey, uh, Virgil?”

“Yeah?” Virgil actually looked up.

“Um… how did you guys all know each other's names? Like, did you tell or did you just know?” Do they know his? Would he have to tell them? Would they care? Virgil’s mouth quirked up a bit.

“We told our names,” Virgil said. “And you have no pressure to. Got it?”

“Yeah.” Tristan looked down, biting his lip. “Sorry, I was just… wondering…”

“Hey, as long as you’re nice about it you can ask anything.” Virgil declared. “I just don’t have to answer.” Tristan grinned.

“Duly noted.”

“Here we go!” Patton slid plates across the table to them. “Where’s Logan got to?”

“I’m here, Patton.” Logan sighed, rising into the kitchen. “I’m sorry, I was up late last night. There was an irregularity in the mindscape and I wanted to check on it, but it was nothing.”

“An irregularity?” Tristan asked.

“Oh, there’s nothing to worry about,” Logan promised. “It was due to the fact that you manifest differently than Roman did, it won’t affect Thomas negatively at all.”

“O-oh…” Tristan nodded, picking up a fork. “Th-that… makes sense. Sorry.”

“No reason to be sorry!” Patton sits down last. “And you’ll be able to get rest today, Logan, it’s Disney Sunday.”

“That seems satisfactory, thank you, Patton.” Tristan smiled softly. Maybe, with help from Roman and if he tried hard enough, things would be okay. Maybe.

* * *

“I still don’t get it,” Tristan said, folding his arms. 

“Tris, I know this is hard,” Roman said softly. “It's hard for everyone, I’m sure. But if you just… trust me on this. Please.”

“Okay…” Tristan sighed, head hanging. “What did Logan mean when he said there was an irregularity?”

“Ah, well,” Roman chuckled. “That’s not an irregularity, Tristan, that was Thomas growing a bit as a person. You see, Thomas has quite a few self-esteem issues.”

“...yeah, I know.”

“I’m afraid my prideful behavior may have… influenced that. I didn’t know of course, and I didn’t mean to let that happen. But by being so loud and confident all the time, I gave Thomas the idea that he… should be that confident. About everything.”

“Confidence is good,” Tristan protested. Roman shrugged.

“Yes and no, I was… well, egotistical, as Logan may say.” Tristan smirked. “Overconfident. You, my dear friend, are simply comfortable.”

“I mean… I guess.” Tristan shrugged. “I don’t really think about it too much… would all Thomas’s fans say he looked amazing if he didn’t?”

“There we go then!” Roman said cheerfully. “With your influence, Thomas is managing to work through some of his self-esteem! Bravo!”

“But…” Tristan frowned. “You died, no one wanted that.”

“Tristan,” Roman sighed. “The others don’t remember, of course, but we all die sometimes. Come back different, and… well… Thomas grows. Logic was borne from curiosity, you know. Don’t tell him, I only know because I am creativity, I create the sides. Subconsciously, and both you and I know when one has died.”

“Oh.” Tristan frowned. “But, I’m still creativity.”

“Well, I wasn’t really supposed to die yet,” Roman muttered. “I got careless.”

“Oh.”

“I haven’t much time.” Roman looked into Tristan’s eyes, Tristan stared back. “Promise you’ll take care of Thomas for me?”

“Cross my heart,” Tristan said, a small smile quirking up the side of his mouth. Roman smiled, then flickered and faded away. Tristan looked into his box. Eight spheres left.

* * *

Tristan knew, in theory, about the dark sides. Roman had mentioned them once from an orb, and he felt a strange connection to Remus - who he knew was not his brother but his uncle instead - making him wonder about his actual relationship with Roman. Oh, Tristan knew about the sides, alright, but meeting them was another matter.

“BOO!”

Tristan gasped, whirling around and drawing his - Roman’s - sword out of instinct. Deceit laughed, obviously having practiced his cackle in a mirror somewhere.

“Oh my, you’re not on edge, it seems.” Deceit drawled, brushing hair out of Tristan’s eyes. Tristan stepped back, lowering the sword slightly.

“Oh. Deceit.” Tristan turned in relief to see Logan walking in from the kitchen, holding a jar of crofters. “What brings you here?”

“I just wanted to meet this curiosity.” Deceit gestured to Tristan, and Tristan scowled uneasily.

“Curiosity?” Remus appeared as well, making Tristan jump. “Oh, you mean my brother's little passion project!”

“Roman is gone,” Logan said softly, grip tightening on the jar he held. Tristan swallowed thickly, putting his sword away when Logan’s eyes flickered to it. “If all you’re here to do is to intimidate the boy, you’ve accomplished that.”

“Hm, not revealed your name yet, then?” Remus giggled at that.

“Shut up, Uncle Ree.” Tristan muttered. Remus just laughed harder.

“Do you want me to get Patton?” Logan asked, eyebrow raised. Deceit rolled his eyes.

“Oh yes, because we’re absolutely terrified of Patton.” he hissed.

“You should be, as Tristan manifests as a young person and Patton is inherently based off of a parent, very protective of him.”

“He is?” Tristan looked at Logan in surprise.

“Ah yes, because it's not like you don’t already have a parent.” Deceit drawled, sinking back out to the darkscape. Remus vanished with a snap of his fingers, and Tristan was left standing there - rattled.

“Hm.” Logan shrugged indifferently after a moment, going back to his crofters. Tristan tried to shake it off as well, but every word the dark sides had said seemed to echo in his mind. “I suppose Roman is somewhat of your father, isn’t he? Having created you from the last of himself.”

“That sounds questionable.” Tristan finally managed a laugh, brushing his hair back before regaining his good posture. “But I guess so.”

“It does make me wonder how this has all been affecting Remus.” Logan mused, sitting down on the couch. Tristan joined him, trying not to appear too interested in what he was saying. “After all, he and Roman were brothers - as I’m sure he detested you pointing out by calling him ‘Uncle’.”

“Oh.” Tristan’s face reddened. “Uh… sorry.”

“Quite alright, Creativity.” Logan nodded. “It is a strange thing to all of us - especially as everything I can find tells me sides are not supposed to die - here you are.”

“Here I am.” Tristan sighed softly. 

“Though I suppose, if Roman had done something to lose his corporeal appearance, he wouldn’t have wanted Remus to gain full control.” Logan continued thoughtfully. “And would create you to take his place - that does sound like the sort of thing Roman would do. He was fairly petty, especially when it came to Remus.”

“Yeah,” Tristan frowned at the spot where his Uncle (??) had been standing. “It’s not really Remus’s fault, though. Is it? Like it's not my fault I just woke up here.”

“True.” Logan nodded, a small smile gracing his face. “Though that is hard to see sometimes.”

Tristan nodded, idly picking up the remote and turning on the TV, finding it was on a paused movie. Saving Mr. Banks. He grinned, then glanced to Logan.

“It okay if I turn this on?”

“Of course. You may want to start this over, though, it always impacts one more when the whole movie is watched at once. At least I believe so.”

“Right.” Tristan laughed softly, turning back to the TV. He really did like talking to Logan - but whenever he tried to pry into Roman’s store of memory, he found he wasn’t allowed to access much about the other side. 

He’d just have to get to know them on his own, he supposed.

* * *

Thomas worked on other things - Cartoon Therapy, videos for his other channel, trying to figure out a way to explain what had happened and why Tristan was… not Roman.

Tristan did feel bad, but he knew if Thomas was really upset he could just shapeshift and act. The others assured him that it was alright, that these things just happened, but Tristan still felt bad.

“It's not your fault, Tris.” Roman insisted, shaking his head sadly. “Alright? It's mine, and I’m trying to fix it. I’m trying to do what’s best.”

“I know.” Tristan sighed, closing his eyes. Then he opened them, looking curiously over at Roman, who was strumming the ukelele. “So… Remus is my uncle.”

“Yeah.”

“That makes you my dad,” Tristan said it aloud, making it seem all the more logical. Roman said nothing, staring down at the instrument in his hands, before nodding slowly. “Sorry, I just feel weird about that.”

“It's a weird thing.” Roman murmured, then looked up with a dazzling smile. “How have the others been, then? I have sixty seconds left, how’s Patton?”

“He’s okay.” Tristan shrugged, wondering why he asked specifically about morality. “Kinda broken up about you, but he’s had some time to deal with that. He’s nice, and Logan said he’s super protective of me because I’m younger than the rest of you.”

“Ah, Virgil’s a few years younger as well,” Roman said. “And really, Remus and I are younger than Logan, Patton, and Deceit. When we, uh, split, we were younger.”

“Oh.” Tristan looked over, watching Roman’s form fade away. “Well, see you next time.”

There were four orbs left, and Tristan didn’t know if he could handle running out when it happened. He closed the chest, taking a deep breath. He’d deal with that when he dealt with that.

Tristan left the room, ukelele that Roman had been holding in his hands, strumming idly as he pondered the very likelihood of his existence. He was so lost in thought, he bumped into Virgil and nearly pushed him down the stairs. He reached out reflexively, dropping the uke to grab Virgil around the waist and shoulders, spinning them so they both stood on the top landing.

“Wow- sorry, vertigo…” Virgil grabbed the wall, blinking rapidly. Tristan let go, grimacing.

“Sorry, Vee.” he rubbed the back of his neck. “I wasn’t looking where I was going… I should’ve-”

“Hey, it's fine.” Virgil took a few breaths, finally meeting his eyes. “You okay?”

“Of course.” Tristan huffed, retrieving his ukelele. “It’d take more than that to hurt me.” Virgil rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, alright kid.” 

Tristan hesitated, fingers thumbing over the strings. They really were awkward, about his name. They had no nickname for him like Roman, and he knew to call him Creativity hurt them.

“It's…” he glanced away. “Tristan.”

“What?”

“My name,” Tristan said softly, and Virgil’s eyes widened in surprise. “Sorry, I just…” he laughed softly. “A little weird talking to you guys without you knowing it.”

“No need to be sorry.” Virgil offered a warm smile. “I like it - it’s different, but I guess that’s alright. I don’t think Patton would do so well if it was similar to his…” Tristan winced, looking at the floor. 

“That’s probably true.” he managed.

“Hey, this wasn’t your fault,” Virgil said, scowling. “It just happened, okay? No one blames you. I promise.”

* * *

Tristan had a nightmare.

He wasn’t really sure what it was about, but he knew Roman was in it. It was similar to the memory he had regarding the prince’s death but different at the same time.

Roman still went to a cave in the imagination, and he still didn’t return. However, his intent was different this time. There was no great beast inside, only himself and some kind of magic glow while he was within.

Tristan woke with a start, shaky and terrified as he remembered Roman’s utter despair. The way he’d felt about himself - useless and pathetic. 

Was that just a dream?

It felt much too real to be a dream. More real than the memory he’d had previous, one that Tristan was sure now had been created by the previous side to lie to Tristan about what happened. 

His stomach twisted unhappily, and Tristan got out of bed to find a way to distract himself. Nothing in the room worked, as it all made him think of Roman. So Tristan left, walking down to the commons to make a cup of hot cocoa for himself. 

He was surprised when he turned from the stove to see Deceit standing behind him, idly inspecting his glove.

“D-Deceit?” Tristan stuttered, eyes wide.

“Hello, Tristan.” Deceit sighed, stretching before walking over and cupping Tristan’s chin in his hand. Tristan stared at him, and Deceit stared back. Tristan was shocked to see the pain in Deceit’s eyes, a deep burning sadness.

“Wh- are you okay?” Tristan asked incredulously. Deceit hummed, letting go of his chin.

“You really are a curiosity.” Deceit hummed to himself. Tristan flushed.

“What are you talking about?” he snapped. “What is your problem with me, anyway?”

“I?” Deceit’s eyebrows rose. “I don’t have a problem, Tristan. No, I think you have a problem. Rather, you are a problem.”

“Wh-” tears stung Tristan's eyes and he stepped back. “That’s rude.”

“Not as rude as appearing in place of another.” Deceit hummed. “As taking their place and pretending you can fill the void.”

“Says you.” Tristan scoffed. “You’re always taking the others' places.”

“I do not.” Deceit lied. “But this is different, I’m afraid. You really have no idea what’s going on.”

“What are you talking about?” Tristan asked, worry growing. “What did you do?”

“I did something just awful.” Deceit drawled, a smirk crossing his face.

“Leave me alone.” Tristan pushed past the other side, heart pounding. Deceit let him pass, watching as he climbed the stairs back up, mug shaking in his hand. 

Tristan pressed his back against the door, staring miserably around the room. What was going on? Deceit was right - everything about this just felt… wrong. Tristan knew he shouldn’t exist - it defied all explanation. Especially after that nightmare, where Roman’s death was less of an accident. 

“Fine.” Tristan put the mug down on his dresser, then knelt in front of the chest from Roman. “Fine. Everyone wants to keep things from me? Fine.” There were only two left, at this point. He’d been trying to save them. But this was getting ridiculous. Tristan gently picked up an orb, inspecting it for a moment before dropping it onto the floor.

Within moments, Roman had joined him sitting cross-legged.

“It’s the middle of the night,” Roman said, frowning unhappily. “What’s wrong, Tristan? I thought-”

“I’m only supposed to contact you if it’s really important.” Tristan waved a hand. “Yeah, yeah, I got it. Roman… what happened?”

“What are you referring to?” Roman tilted his head to the side, obviously trying his best to act confused. Tristan sighed, rubbing his eyes.

“Deceit and Remus keep calling me… a curiosity.” He muttered. Roman winced. “And… and I had this… I had this nightmare. Roman…”

“Tris.”

“How did you actually die?” Tristan met his gaze and was shocked to see the terror within Roman’s golden irises. “...Roman, please.”

“I-It was an accident of course.” Roman laughed nervously, running a hand through his hair. Tristan narrowed his eyes. That was a lie. Roman was lying. “I let Remus influence a patch of the imagination, to make my quest more realistic. One thing led to the other, and-”

“Stop.” Tristan buried his head in his hands. “Stop, Roman, you’re lying! I… I saw… do you have any idea what I saw you do? Do you have any idea… of course, you do. You’re the one that did it. I can’t believe this.”

“Tristan, it’s not what you think-”

“Remus called me your passion project.” Tristan muttered. “How long were you planning this?”

“I don’t have enough time to explain, Tristan, you have to-”

“I don’t have to do anything!” Tristan snapped. “Everything you’ve said to me is a lie, Roman! How do… what am I supposed to do?”

“None of this is your fault,” Roman gently put a hand on Tristan’s shoulder, though it wasn’t quite solid. “I promise.

“You just left me to clean up your mess,” Tristan muttered.

“No, no, I didn’t. Listen, Tristan, I have to-”

“Roman.”

Tristan whirled around, meeting Logan’s baffled gaze from where he stood in the doorway. He heard the telltale sound of Roman’s from dissipating, time in the present used up until another orb broke. Tristan’s chest tightened as he saw Patton and Virgil behind him, eyes wide and, in Patton’s case, filled with tears.

Frick.

* * *

“I thought Roman was dead,” Patton said softly. Tristan stared at him sadly, shuffling in his seat on the couch.

“Technically,” Logan adjusted his glasses. “None of us are truly alive, so, really, Roman cannot be-”

“Lo!” Virgil hissed as Patton burst into tears. Tristan flinched backward, staring at his hands instead, twisting them in the fabric of his sash.

“Apologies.” Logan murmured.

“He… he is.” Tristan sighed, summoning the chest to sit in front of him in the commons. “But, um… he left these.”

“Christmas ornaments?” Virgil asked incredulously. Tristan laughed, shaking his head.

“Whenever I break one… I can kinda… talk to him for two minutes. Like, his ghost. There were ten, and I’ve used nine of them. He said it was… to help me cope with suddenly being a side.” he explained, brushing his hair back. “Answer questions, explain things…” he trailed off, shaking his head. “I thought it’d make you all sadder. Didn’t mean for you to hear… or see us talking.”

“It was quite a shock.” Logan murmured.

“...Pat?” Tristan asked, wringing his hands.

“I-I’m… okay.” Patton sniffled, wiping away his tears. “I-I just… I never thought I’d see him again… I-I never said goodbye, and I...I miss him!” he was gone again, sobbing into Virgil’s jacket. Virgil looked desperately at Logan, then Tristan. 

“We all miss him.” Logan murmured. “But we can’t change what happened, Patton. It’s been too long, and Tristan is… he is creativity. Or, Roman’s half of it.”

“Would…” Tristan gently picked up the last orb, staring down at it. “Would saying goodbye help you… feel better?”

“Oh.” Virgil gasped. “Oh my god… are you serious?”

“Of course.” Tristan frowned. “You guys knew him better than I did, anyway. I just… I thought maybe… it’d make it hurt more.”

“It was a well-intentioned gesture,” Logan said gently. “But I believe, in this case, some closure would be beneficial.”

“Okay.” Tristan breathed deeply, then let the orb tumble from his fingers.

“This is not why I left you the orbs!” Roman snapped as soon as he materialized. Tristan winced. 

“Roman…!” Patton launched himself forward, and Roman barely managed to solidify before he went through him, holding him with an awkward grimace. “Oh my gosh… Roman… I’m so sorry I didn’t say goodbye, and I never got to hear your new song, and I didn’t-”

“P-Patton, stop it.” Roman stuttered. Tristan’s eyes widened as he saw the tears in his eyes. “Please. I can’t… I can’t do this.”

“What the hell, princey?” Virgil demanded. “You just went and died on us? Not cool!”

“It was an accident…” Roman had barely finished the sentence before Deceit rose up in the corner, a dark look on his face. Tristan felt sick as he realized his hypothesis had been proven.

Roman had died on purpose.

“...we only have two minutes.” Logan sighed. “One and a half, now. This change is irreversible, and as such we cannot dwell on… on the past. Whatever happened in the imagination, it doesn’t matter.”

“Yes, it does.” Virgil hissed, pulling Patton from the ghost Roman’s arms. “You… why, Roman? Why would you do this?”

“It’s for the best.” Roman sighed, shoulders sagging. “It was bound to happen. I just… made it happen sooner.”

“Quite a predicament.” Deceit hummed. “I warned you, Roman, that this plan would work perfectly.”

“Oh, shut up,” Roman muttered irritably.

“Stop fighting!” Tristan snapped, jumping to his feet. Everyone froze, looking at him. “I was trying to help, not make you fight! Do you want… Roman is gone! This is just… a ghost! Stop being pissed off at each other and talk for once, god!”

“Language!” Patton gasped.

“I didn’t teach him that,” Roman muttered. 

“Roman… I just don’t understand.” Patton rubbed his eyes, still holding back sobs.

“I regretted doing it as soon as I did,” Roman said softly, head hanging. “But I can’t… I can’t take it back. I’m sorry, love.”

Oh. Fuck, of course. Tristan looked to the floor, shoulders hunching.

“I’m sorry.” Virgil sighed, blowing hair from his face. “For… doing whatever made you feel shitty enough to…”

“It's past and gone now,” Roman promised him. “No reason to… dwell on past mistakes.”

“You’ve been missed,” Logan said softly. “And you always will be, Roman. But we will… we will be alright.”

“Thirty seconds.” Roman hummed. “That was the final orb, huh?”

“Yes.”

“No!” Patton’s voice broke. “Roman, please!”

“I’m sorry.” Roman hugged him once more, then turned to Tristan. Tristan stared back, wide-eyed. “I’m sorry, Tristan. I never should ha-”

And he was gone.

Patton let out a miserable wail, falling back into Virgil’s arms. Logan stared at the spot Roman had just been, face blank. Remus appeared at Deceit’s side, a melancholy look crossing his face as he realized he’d missed it.

Tristan sank onto the couch, guilty, frustrated emotions curling through him. 

How on earth was he ever supposed to fill the void Roman left?

**Author's Note:**

> I've had this on the burner for like...................................  
a long time haha and I FINALLY freaking FINISHED IT YAYYYYYY  
what do you think? Good? Bad? Interesting? Great? Awful? Please let me know! ^-^  
Love you all,  
-Coby


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